


like me better

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Ice Skating, Light Angst, M/M, Pack Bonding, discussion of mummification, maybe canon compliant?, not quite alternate universe?, stiles has a lil bit of an ~alpha eyes~ kink?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:38:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: Stiles gasped dramatically and slid his foot into the other skate, offering his feet to Derek with a grin. ‘Are you the Prince Charming to my Cinderella?’‘Do you ever stop talking shit?’‘Nope, it’s part of my charm.’‘Can’t believe I agreed to make this a date,’ Derek muttered.





	like me better

**Author's Note:**

> immediate disclaimer: i have no idea how similar/different american skating rinks are to the ones here. if anything is like... out of place? wrong? like tbh it's 2am i don't care, let's call it artistic license. also, i'm shit at explaining things, so derek is too. _also_ this is my first (possibly only?) venture into writing for this fandom so ooc peeps are totally my bad lol

He hadn’t been here for a while.

Years, in fact.

Skating was something Derek had done with his sister, and after the fire… well. He hadn’t wanted to come to the rink and act like everything was fine when clearly it wasn’t. He knew he was probably being ridiculous, that Laura would roll her eyes and tell him to just _do_ it, but it just… It wasn’t happening.

He still had his skates, because somehow they survived the flames, and tried them on every few months to check they still fit and _yep, today’s the day I’ll go down and get back to it_. But no. None of his pep talks had worked so far.

But now, _now,_ he had a pack full of enthusiastic teenage betas to contend with who were all about their pack bonding, and had decided that their next group outing would be to the rink.

_“Nothing bonds you as a group like falling flat on your ass,” Erica announced gleefully, an evil glint in her eye as she looked over to where Derek was standing at the window, brooding as usual. “And of course, the alpha has to be there to kiss our booboos.”_

_Derek turned sharply and frowned. “I’m kissing no one’s ass,” he said, trying his hardest not to glance to where Stiles was on the couch, wedged between Scott and Allison, a witty comeback no doubt forming in his mind._

He couldn’t exactly turn it down, either. Derek wasn’t really one for pack outings that weren’t of the “running for our lives” variety and had attended exactly zero excursions so far. (He wasn’t the best at dealing with the pack bonding situations either, which meant that his apartment became the designated group hangout. Apparently, that way they could all at least mooch off his food, even if he didn’t allow them to envelop him in the group hug fiascos that ended up with at least six teenagers on his couch at once.)

So here Derek was, standing in front of his closet, glaring at the skates on the floor. He figured if he was going to have some kind of breakdown, he’d rather do it by himself. ‘Today’s the day,’ he said loudly, to no one but himself. ‘Going to the rink.’

He took a deep breath, picked up the offending items, grabbed the bag with his extra layers in it, and set off to the rink.

 

* * *

 

Derek was surprised he had got this far, and furthermore, that he had managed to get out his car within five minutes of parking. Maybe because he spent the entire drive psyching himself up, so the amount he had to do at the actual rink was cut down. Without thinking too much, Derek retrieved his stuff from the back seat, and went inside, being hit by the cold air almost immediately.

Last time he had been here was two weeks before the fire. Derek ignored the pricking in his eyes as he approached the ticket office.

No one was there, of course, because it was like ten on a Thursday morning, but Derek could see people on the ice, so the rink was definitely open. (Not like he hadn’t googled the opening hours about seven times before deciding to come.)

Derek dinged the bell on the counter and counted to eight, before a freckled young man appeared from the back. ‘Hey,’ Derek said, deliberately keeping his voice low so it wouldn’t break.

‘Hey,’ the guy said slowly, probably suspicious of the way Derek was talking. ‘One?’

‘Yeah, just me. Got my own skates.’

‘Cool.’ Dude sounded bored. He swiped Derek’s money off the counter and ripped out an admission ticket for him. ‘Have fun.’

‘Thanks,’ Derek muttered, making his way in to the benches. He dropped his bag onto one of the lower ones and slipped his feet out of his boots and into his skates.

From there, it was like muscle memory. Straighten the tongue, pull the laces, go back and tighten them again, secure with a knot, take off blade covers, stand up and – _stand up._

Derek blinked and looked down to his feet. Shit, he was here. He was going to do this.

For a moment, Derek considered taking his skates off, going home, and pretending this never happened. He could tell himself the blades were dull, but that was a lie. Last time he went through the process to get here, he’d got them sharpened. And now he’d paid at the door. Nothing was stopping him from just getting on the damn ice.

He could practically hear Laura’s voice, tired of her baby brother’s excuses. _Just do it, dumbass._

‘Fuck it,’ he muttered, making his way to the barrier. ‘Fuck it, fuck it, fuck, fuck, fuck.’

Deep breath in, and Derek put his foot on the ice, ignoring the strange looks the other skaters were giving him from the opposite side of the rink.

‘Hey, buddy!’ one of them called. ‘Are you –’

‘I’m _fine_!’ Derek interrupted.

They just rolled their eyes and left him to it.

Derek kept his hand on the barrier for a few minutes, as he skated slowly up one wall, took a corner, and went down the other side, past the skaters, who clearly weren’t dealing with any repressed issues right now.

Once Derek had got used to the feeling of how his feet moved across the surface of the ice, it was like a duck to water. No, wrong expression. Riding a bike? Yeah, that one.

He pushed off the wall as he fell back into an old rhythm, only stumbling a little as he did his first crossover in years. The smell of the ice was comforting, familiar, and the sound of his skates cutting through the ice – _God_. Why get a white noise machine when you could listen to that on a ten hour loop and drift to sleep.

After a couple of hours reacquainting himself with the ice, Derek decided that was enough progress for now. As he got off the ice, slid the ice shavings off the blades, and tucked them safely back in their covers, Derek was confident he would be fine to attend his first pack bonding activity.

Y’know. One _not_ in his apartment.

 

* * *

 

The night of the dreaded outing, Stiles, Scott, and Allison arrived at Derek’s apartment, having decided to pick him up so he wouldn’t be able to flunk out.

‘Hey, buddy!’ Stiles grinned, as Derek climbed into the jeep, dumping his skates on the floor. ‘Ready to get your _bonding_ on?’

Derek sighed. ‘Just drive, Stiles.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Stiles said, starting up his car and heading out the carpark of Derek’s apartment.

Scott and Allison, as cute as they were, had declared it open season for snuggling in the back seat. It seemed that something about the extra scarves and mittens was really doing it for them, so Stiles was doing his best to drown out the cooing and giggling with loud conversation.

He didn’t need much prompting, so Derek sat there humming and nodding when it seemed polite, because he also did not want to focus too much on what else was currently happening in the back seat. Derek wasn’t exactly paying attention to what Stiles was saying, but a couple of minutes before arriving at the rink, he finally tuned in.

‘So they’d swirl this hook thing around the inside, right, liquefy the brain and then yank it all out and discard it, because, y’know, the brain totally wasn’t important. But they left the heart in there to be judged in the afterlife and sometimes they’d put a protective amulet, like a scarab, with the heart, still inside the body,’ Stiles was saying, gesticulating wildly when appropriate. ‘So when the soul got to the Duat, right, the underworld, the heart would be weighed against a feather that represented Maat, like truth and balance and stuff, and if the heart was like… bad, I guess, it would be eaten by this thing I forget the name of.’

Stiles paused and looked to Derek like he was trying to figure it out by staring into Derek’s beard. ‘Ammit!’ he cried, snapping his fingers. ‘It would be fed to Ammit the _devourer_ , which sounds terrifying, like I guess it probably is. Dude was like part hippo, part alligator, and like a lion or something, but it was a tiny little dog thing, so who knows. Cerberus was probably worse. Did you know the name Cerberus comes from the Latin word meaning “spotted”? Hades literally named his three headed dog _Spot_. Isn’t that amazing?’

Derek blinked. ‘What?’

‘Anyway,’ Stiles continued, flicking his eyes to the backseat where Scott and Allison were still appearing to be one entity. ‘They’d put the rest of the organs in canopic jars, which were supposed to represent the four sons of Horus I think, like they’d guard them in the afterlife, and then that was pretty much it. Wait, no, they’d stuff the body cavity with salts and stuff to dry it out for a bit before they were _done_ , so like if you went to where all the bodies were being prepped, you’d see a bunch just casually lying around, filled with this special salt and a bunch of other stuff. Oh look! We’re here.’

Stiles pulled into the rink, and parked beside Erica’s car. He took out the keys and relaxed slightly when he spotted Scott and Allison straightening out their clothes, glad he wouldn’t have to physically break them apart. ‘Everyone good to go?’

Derek had intended to walk ahead of them and skip out on the awkward talking that would no doubt fill the silence as they went to the doors, but Stiles jogged up behind him and bumped him with his elbow. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘About what?’ Derek asked, gripping his skates a little tighter in his hand.

‘The uh, talking. I talk when I’m nervous, or feeling a bit awkward. I talk a lot, like, in general.’

Derek chuckled despite himself. ‘Yes, Stiles. I know.’

Stiles blushed. ‘Still. I figured neither of us needed to listen to those two necking in the back of my car. Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘Why are you being weird about this pack bonding experience?’

‘Huh?’

Stiles shrugged. ‘You’re kinda… quiet? Like you’re usually quiet and broody, but you’re being _weird_ quiet, and you never come out with us.’

‘Guess I’m making new memories,’ Derek muttered. ‘I used to come here with Laura a lot.’

‘Oh. So you haven’t..?’

‘I came here yesterday morning.’

‘Why, to prepare yourself? Didn’t want us to see you fall on your ass? Big bad alpha, taken down by _frozen water_.’

‘No, I didn’t want you to see me –’ Derek stopped abruptly. ‘Never mind.’

Stiles raised an eyebrow as he pulled open the door. ‘Alright, Mr Mysterious.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Can we just go in? Please?’

‘Sure. Let’s go,’ Stiles bowed and waved him through.

As they stood in line for admission, they could already see Erica and Boyd skating around, so that meant Isaac was somewhere as well. Probably being left to struggle by himself.

When they reached the window, Derek decided he couldn’t be bothered watching Stiles count out his crumpled dollar bills to pay, and slid across extra money for his admission as well. ‘One with hire, one without.’

It was the same guy that had been there yesterday, and he clearly didn’t care about Derek’s new frequent flyer status, as he slid back their tickets. ‘Have fun.’

Derek nodded and went on ahead, pausing when he noticed Stiles was still fumbling at the window. ‘Stiles, come on.’

Stiles looked up and spotted the two tickets in Derek’s hand. He grinned and strode purposefully through the gate, taking the ticket from his hand. ‘You paid for me? Is this a date?’

Derek rolled his eyes. _Not today._

Stiles gasped. ‘It is! Oh my God, why did no one tell me this was a front?’

‘What?’

‘This pack bonding is all an excuse for you to take me out, isn’t it? Because I’d be totally okay with that.’

Derek frowned. ‘It’s not an excuse for anything.’

Stiles’ face dropped and he looked down to the ticket in his hands. ‘Oh. Probably shouldn’t’ve… said that.’

Derek sighed quietly. It wasn’t like he didn’t like Stiles, because he _did_ , but… it just hadn’t occurred to him to act on it (much). Stiles spent most of his time proclaiming (loudly) how much he loved Lydia, but maybe that was just… platonic. Platonically declaring your love was a thing, right?

Either way, the broken expression on Stiles’ face right now was enough for Derek to cling to. Fuck it, making memories, right? ‘That doesn’t mean…’ he began slowly, making sure he had enough time to back out if Stiles laughed everything off as a joke. ‘That doesn’t mean this _couldn’t_ be a… date?’

Stiles snapped his head back up, his eyes full of hope. ‘Really?’

Derek shrugged. ‘I guess.’

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘Not as enthusiastic as I’d like but I’ll take it. Gonna go get some skates, I’ll meet you over there,’ he said, waving his hand towards the bleachers on the other side of the rink.

Derek nodded and started making his way over. Stupid, _stupid_. This was a terrible idea. Terrible, _stupid_ idea. Why did he think this was a good idea? Stiles was cute and funny and apparently liked Derek (why) and Derek liked him, but… No, no but. This was only a small thing and testing the waters wouldn’t hurt, right?

‘Are you dating my best friend?’ Scott asked, breaking Derek out of his thoughts.

‘What?’

‘Or did I not hear that right? I swear I heard you two agree this was a date. Is it?’

‘Uhh…’ Derek tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the steadily rising beat of his heart. His eyes caught Stiles at the window to the skate hire, bumbling his way through getting the right size, and trying to find the best way to hold the bulky things. Derek allowed a small smile to part his face. ‘Yeah.’

Scott beamed. ‘Great! Be nice to him or I’ll end you,’ he said, giving Derek a cheery thumbs up as he followed Allison to where Lydia and Jackson had just walked in.

‘I’d like to see you try,’ Derek muttered, as he headed to where Stiles was already sitting at the bleachers.

‘Hey! You took a while,’ Stiles greeted, looking up as Derek approached. ‘Were you talking to Scott?’

‘Yeah, he was just threatening my life, I think.’

‘Oh, that’s great. Not like I wouldn’t also be able to end you.’

Derek raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that right.’

‘Yeah, like…’ Stiles picked up his skates from beside his socked feet. ‘’Bouta have some blades attached to me.’

‘I’ll keep a look out.’

‘Yeah, because I’m _dangerous_.’

Derek huffed as he tapped his skates on the ground to get his feet in. ‘Can’t wait.’

There was silence for a few moments before Stiles broke it (again) with probably the one thing Derek didn’t want to talk about right now. ‘So… Laura.’

‘Oh Jesus, Stiles.’

‘Was this, like, your thing?’

‘Yes, it was, and no, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had enough revelations here this week.’

‘But –’

Derek turned sharply to him, cutting off the rest of that sentence with a look. ‘No.’

‘We’re on a _date_. Reveal your heartache and strife to me. We can bond.’

‘Pass. Are you still not done with your laces?’ Derek asked, changing the topic abruptly.

Stiles frowned and looked down to his feet. Only one was in a skate, the other lingering on the perpetually damp ground. ‘It’s harder than it looks.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Get your feet in them. I’ll do the laces.’

Stiles gasped dramatically and slid his foot into the other skate, offering his feet to Derek with a grin. ‘Are you the Prince Charming to my Cinderella?’

‘Do you ever stop talking shit?’

‘Nope, it’s part of my charm.’

‘Can’t believe I agreed to make this a date,’ Derek muttered, kneeling directly in a patch of ice and ignoring the feeling of it soaking through the knee of his jeans. He started yanking on Stiles’ laces, making sure they were tight enough so he wouldn’t fall out of them. ‘That okay?’

‘Yeah, I mean, might lose the circulation in my foot, but it’s fine.’

‘Perfect,’ Derek said, tying them off.

‘But if I actually do lose the feeling in my feet, you’re carrying me back to the car. Or off the ice. Whichever is first.’

Derek glanced up. ‘That a threat?’ he asked, flashing his eyes red.

Stiles gulped. ‘Depends if you’re, uh, gonna do that again.’

Derek laughed. ‘Are my eyes a turn on for you?’

Stiles tried to shrug nonchalantly. It was shaky and unconvincing at best. ‘Not really.’

‘Your heart rate just picked up,’ Derek said, standing and brushing off his jeans. ‘Let’s go bond with the pack.’

‘“Bond with the pack”?’ Stiles repeated, waddling after Derek to the ice. ‘Did I hear that right?’

‘If you repeat it back, I’ll deny it. They’ll never believe you.’

Stiles’ mouth dropped. ‘This is exactly like Holt and Peralta with the hula hooping,’ he said in a horrified whisper.

‘I have no idea what that means. Are you good on the ice?’

‘I don’t want to brag, but I haven’t seriously injured myself yet.’

‘Outstanding.’

 

* * *

 

The boys in the pack, it turned out, were all completely useless. Erica, Lydia, and Allison all had some kind of sixth sense to just _know_ when one of the others was about to fall over, turning to watch in unabashed joy when someone was losing their balance. They were, however, at least taking care of their respective partners, and now that Stiles and Derek were apparently on a date, that left Isaac by himself.

Being the good alpha he was (sometimes), Derek accepted his second charge, and did his best to make sure that Stiles and Isaac were at least a little more adept at skating when they left than when they had arrived.

About an hour into the total clusterfuck that was the group bonding experience, Allison appeared at Derek’s shoulder, nudged him gently, and nodded towards Stiles. ‘Scott stepped off for snacks. I’ll deal with Isaac, you go to Stiles.’

Derek sighed with relief. Allison might be a hunter, but she was also occasionally a total saint. Stiles was a disaster on the ice, but Isaac? He had spent the majority of his time on his ass – so commonplace that even Erica had stopped filming it.

‘Hey, how you doing?’ Derek called, skating up beside where Stiles was going slowly around the edge of the ice, clinging onto the barrier for dear life.

‘Still alive, counting it as a win,’ Stiles shrugged, somehow managing to unbalance and slip backwards.

Derek caught him reflexively, righting them both without touching the ice. ‘ _How_ are you still alive?’

‘By the grace of God.’

Derek grinned. ‘Want me to teach you?’ he asked, skating ahead and turning around so he was facing Stiles and skating backwards.

‘You realise if I fall, you’re coming down with me.’

‘I’m a bit sturdier than you, so I think I’ll be fine,’ Derek said, holding out his hands.

Stiles looked at them in surprise. ‘Hold your hands?’

‘Well you don’t _have_ to.’

Stiles looked offended at the very suggestion and slowly took his hands off the barrier, putting them in Derek’s instead. ‘Be my Yoda.’

‘No. I’ll be your Obi Wan,’ Derek said, ignoring Stiles’ look of happiness at the reference. ‘Okay, stop trying to walk on the ice. It’s more about gliding.’

‘Gliding,’ Stiles said, making whooshing noises as he took exaggerated strides. ‘Like that?’

‘A little less… Like that. Your foot does not need to be level with your ass.’

‘Oh.’

Derek looked up, like he was begging the heavens for guidance. ‘That’s better,’ he nodded, as Stiles sort of got the movement down. ‘Push out, kinda? Not like heel-toe.’

‘How are you so good at this?’ Stiles muttered, watching his own feet and trying to mimic the moves of people skating past, who apparently also knew what they were doing.

‘My sister taught me.’

‘Are you gonna tell me the story?’

‘Of?’

‘Your sister.’

‘Not much too it,’ Derek said, avoiding eye contact by focusing on Stiles’ feet. ‘This was our thing. We were here all the time, and then there was the fire, I thought she was dead… then she _was_ dead…’

‘Right,’ Stiles nodded. ‘Like it felt like you couldn’t be here and be happy without her?’

‘Something like that.’

Stiles was quiet for a moment. ‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘As much as I’m enjoying this, and like, holding your hands, I kinda can’t feel my feet much, so I think it might be time for me to get off.’

‘Okay,’ Derek said, dropping just one of Stiles’ hands (it was _no one’s_ business if he was also enjoying holding his hand, okay?) and spinning to the side. ‘We’ll get off at the next gate and go, if you want.’

‘What about Scott and Allison?’ Stiles asked, gripping Derek’s hand a bit tighter, now he was basically skating of his own volition.

‘They can get a ride with someone else. Do you want to… get milkshakes, or something?’

‘Now?’

‘Isn’t this a date?’

Stiles’ answering grin was brighter than the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> i would like to add that i would actually really like the sound of skates cutting ice as white noise? my best friend joked about it after i kept saying how satisfying the noise was, but jokes on her, bc i would totally want that.
> 
> anyway, with that, i'm officially going on hiatus from fic writing. possibly. maybe. who knows. i'll be posting updates on how that's going on my [tumblr](http://jjjakesully.tumblr.com) so stay tuned and/or come yell at me about stuff.


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